#Luxury stash boxes

[xzerosparrowx]

For the June @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: Stuff | wc: 483 | Rating: M | cw: mild language | tags: attempted car theft, Eddie steals cars, mention of Al Munson, meet cute, Steve has a messy car.

an attempt to steal a car

✨️🚘✨️🚗✨️

Allen Munson was right, this is a fancy car. A beautiful burgundy BMW that gleams under the fluorescent lights of the city and cream leather seats that look like they would feel buttery soft. Eddie almost regrets breaking into it as he shoves the slightly bent Slim Jim into the door and unlocks it in one smooth motion. This is a Robin Hood kind of deal. Steal from the rich to give to the poor.

The poor being Eddie and Al Munson.

He quickly gets into the car and is immediately accosted with the sight of random shit strewn across this luxury German vehicle. It's all just… stuff. Cassettes ranging from ABBA, to David Bowie and fucking Tears for Fears are piled in the glove box. Sweaters, shirts and even a bra have been haphazardly thrown to the back seat. Candy wrappers and bottles of soda litter the floor and dashboard. There's even a few dice that Eddie recognises from playing DnD that have been stashed in the little corners of the car.

Too fascinated by the sheer amount of stuff, Eddie doesn't register someone walking to the car until the passenger door is already open and a guy around his age is getting in, shutting the door behind them.

Eddie is a little stupid when it comes to pretty people, probably getting it from Al, along with his prodigious ability to jack cars. So he doesn't make an attempt to escape, just sits there kind of dumb staring at the very pretty guy in front of him.

“Are you trying to steal my car?” the guy asks, his large brown eyes narrowed at Eddie, the spiced scent of expensive cologne surrounding him. It takes Eddie a moment to comprehend that the guy asked him a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie admits like a total idiot, “but then I got a little sidetracked by all the stuff in your car.”

The man laughs, bright and a little embarrassed. “Yeah sorry,” he apologizes, scratching the back of his neck, highlighting the toned muscle of his bicep, “I've been meaning to clean it for ages.”

“Fuck, you don't need to apologize to me, I'm the one who broke into your car!” Eddie exclaims, he feels a little hysterical with this guy next to him apologizing for the mess, knowing that Eddie was trying to steal his BMW.

“Yeah but it's a little embarrassing, right? For a thief to not be stealing your shit because they're judging how you live.” The guy flushes pink as his eyes roam the contents of his car before settling back on Eddie.

Fuck, Eddie feels like a huge dickbag.

“Nah, no judgment from me man,” Eddie shakes his head reassuringly, pulling out the David Bowie tape, “you got some good music here,” and grins at the small smile on the man's face.

“Thanks,” the man chuckles, “I'm Steve, by the way.”

“Eddie.”

[galamalion]

𐕣. 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary. you attempt to enjoy the peaceful snowfall on your own, but aren't these beautiful moments meant to be shared?

⤷ contents. yandere!chrollo lucilfer x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships // wc. 1.6k

⤷ notes. thank you to @ddarker-dreams who inspired me to write something for chrollo, she's written some deplorable things for this man <3 i'm still only writing for one piece, this is something i just really wanted to write!

Snow had been falling for the last hour, painting the city below in a thin sheet of pure white, only the dark speckles of countless heads walking to-and-fro disturbing the peacefulness below. The windowsills and balcony were also beginning to pick up a layer, growing steadily with each tiny flake that joined the pile. A beautiful sight slowly being constructed, irreplaceable and inimitable by mankind.

But what is a beautiful thing, if not to be held and marveled?

You gazed solemnly out the window, fingers splayed against the chilled glass. A similar feeling no doubt to the snow that was just out of reach. God, how long had it been since you’d touched snow? Felt that freezing, yet warming sensation dance across your nerves, sending confusing signals to your brain.

Three years inside a luxury penthouse gave you time to organize your thoughts more poetically.

Well, to say you’d been here for three years would be inaccurate. Two years and five months inside this home. Chrollo must have been anxious for the first seven months he had you, either keeping you by his side or stashing you in rich hotels, if only for a single night.

Perhaps he had become more comfortable, or maybe he was working on a long job, seeing as you’d been here for so long. The fact that you were unsupervised made you lean towards the former, in addition to his unbeatable strength that made resistance futile. But you knew your limits, and slowly you’d been learning Chrollo’s over the course of these three years. Carefully tip-toeing the line between admonishment and punishment; you’d never get the last word but always make a sharp jab, leaving the oh-so generously gifted—and probably stolen—jewelry and makeup untouched, and, perhaps your favorite, ignoring his first call of your name, but always coming on the second.

Pretending to not have heard Chrollo was your favorite pastime after learning that there was little he could do except implore you to open those poor little ears of yours. And it was a joy asking him to repeat himself, enjoying the twinge of annoyance that you could make out in his voice. 

However, as was normal in your new life, Chrollo had made himself scarce for an extended period of time. It wasn’t strange, in fact it was a much needed relief of his soul-scathing presence. He was most likely on a job, having found some ancient book or enchanting onyx necklace that he just had to have. Or, more accurately, another rotting memoir of a dead pompous poet that you would have to listen to Chrollo gush about, and another piece of jewelry for you to throw in the box and forget.

Maybe he’d get creative and bring you a fun hat this time.

At the end of the day, Chrollo wasn’t here, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. It was refreshing, not being alert at every waking moment, though that freezing fear had most certainly dulled with time. You had time to read, maybe start on a puzzle before you became too tired—coffee had been upgraded to a privilege in the last month, and something that Chrollo was only allowed to make, leaving you to rely on your own body’s performance to remain awake for longer. But puzzles left a sour taste in your mouth ever since Chrollo exchanged your fun scenic sets for Renaissance paintings.

And so you settled on reading, the only other thing to do in this godforsaken prison. Chrollo never liked it when you called it that, reminding you that ‘prisons didn’t have fresh produce or fireplaces.’ But even a golden cage is a cage, something you’d remind him of. He took away the remote after that spat.

You abandoned your window gazing and skipped over to the imposing bookshelf and the expansive collection of tomes that awaited you. Half were unreadable, written in dead languages you couldn’t begin to comprehend. The other half were plain boring, a collection of classics that Chrollo had most likely stolen over the years. But a handful were bearable, or at least interesting enough to keep you reading. You had offhandedly mentioned to Chrollo that you preferred mysteries, and the very next day a complete vintage series of Sherlock Holmes appeared. You tried to hint at adding more diverse genres, but so far there have been no new additions to the bookshelf. 

After peeling the first book from the shelf and giving it a light shake to remove any lingering dust, you fled to the comfort of the window nook. It was a remarkable spot—one you knew Chrollo hated, since he could not sit next to you. You thumbed through the book to the first page, laying eyes upon the old and yellowed paper.

“In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the army.”

“Already a far more interesting life,” you muttered, “wish I could be a doctor.”

“Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out.”

“Oh, to travel the world. How I envy you, Watson,” you sighed, bleakly turning towards the window.

The snow hadn’t quit, continuing to stain the buildings in white, a gorgeous scene to behold. It was not to be enjoyed for long, however, as you caught a despicable glimpse in the reflection behind you.

Walking ever-so slightly closer was your captor, Chrollo Lucilfer, in the flesh. Although he seemed to immediately realize he’d been spotted, ceasing his silent movement before you swiveled your head around to face him.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt your commentary,” he gave an innocent smile, “it’s always a treat to hear your dulcet voice.”

“I’d rather keep my thoughts to myself, thanks,” you spat, sending a glare his way before turning back to your book.

“If you’d like to travel the world, I could certainly take you,” he continued.”

“I’ll pass, Chrollo.”

“What ever happened to our little nicknames, my dove? I seem to recall you had quite the attachment to calling me Mephistopheles,” he noted, resuming his gait towards you.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ve since concluded you rather enjoy being compared to the devil, whereas I am not your dove, nor any bird you refer to me as.”

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear,” he cooed.

“I am not yours.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I have stolen you, therefore you are mine.”

“Ah!” you cried out, “I believe you’re forgetting the special word for stealing another person. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? It’s called kidnapping.”

Chrollo smirked at your words, now leaning against the wall beside you, staring down at your piece of literature.

“Believe me, treasure, I am well aware of the crimes I commit.”

“Feel free to list them,” you turned the page of your book, “I assure you, I’m listening.”

He easily plucked the book from your hand.

“Company is meant to be enjoyed, not tolerated,” he teased, returning it back to its place on the shelf. “Besides, the snow outside is stunning, is it not?”

“Of course,” you sneered. “Here, let me put on my cap and scarf, and then we can go frolic in this wonderful weather!”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get smart with me.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.”

Chrollo went quiet and gave you a look, a sign for you to shut your mouth before you ruined tonight.

“I am more than willing to put on a movie tonight, given that your attitude improves,” he spoke softly, moving back towards you.

There was hidden, unspoken meaning behind his words, something you’d grown to adjust to with your snarky attitude. Behave, or you get nothing.

“...What movie do you have in mind?” you responded, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to cool your soured mood.

“I’ll give you the choice, but I’m feeling partial to a select couple. Perhaps Romeo and Juliett? Or Pride and Prejudice?”

Someone’s in a mood tonight, you thought, folding your arms.

“Pride and Prejudice is fine,” you concluded, not wanting to hear Chrollo wax on about what Shakespeare meant or didn’t mean.

“Wonderful,” he smiled, walking over to the kitchen. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate, my dear? I believe it would be fantastic on such a cold day.”

“That would be nice, thank you,” you answered as politely as you could manage, well aware that a simple ‘sure’ would not be enough to earn you any specialties.

You stood from your window alcove and walked quietly towards the bedroom, attempting to do so casually and without drawing his attention.

But it was impossible to slip anything past Chrollo Lucilfer.

“Dear,” he called out, still focused on his work at the counter.

You wordlessly turned around, staring emptily at the back of his head.

“There should be a dress, a black one, on the far right of your wardrobe,” he instructed, “be a doll and put it on.”

“...Alright.”

A black dress, probably too short to be comfortable in either direction. Chrollo’s favorite pastime, of course, was getting a glimpse of the body you’d refuse to show. But this was Chrollo’s night, not your own. Never your own.

So you’ll put the dress on, just like you’ll watch the movie that Chrollo wanted, right next to him—too close to him—on the sofa. And who knows, maybe you’ll do a puzzle with him at the end of the night.

But wasn't the snow just stunning?

[catcze]

I just did my skincare routine, as one does, and I had an idea: spa night with Wriothesley! He’s reluctant to try it out at first, but now it’s his favorite way to relax and spend time with his beloved :,))

This !! Is !! So !! Cute !!

It wasn't a regular thing— not at first.

Wriothesley wasn't the type of person to put too much care into their skin before. You still remember the horror you felt when you learned he did little more than washing his face with tap water in the morning or evening. He'd been blessed by whichever archon was in charge of clear skin, you swore up and down for the longest time.

But all it took was him coming back early one evening, just in time to catch you in the middle of your skincare routine and a hesitantly asked, "...What's this?" as he held one of the many, many bottles in your stash aloft in his palm, and the rest is history.

Now, you've got him on his back, head rested in your lap and his eyes shut in relaxation. One of your cotton headbands keeps his spiky hair from brushing his forehead— the pastel colors are an adorable contrast to the dark strands.

"So then when I got to the store, there was this bitch who tried to fight me for the last box of pancake mix, even though I got my hands on it first. That motherfucker told me to go get my own pancake mix, and i told her, 'I just fucking did'," you say to him, recounting the harrows and drama of your day. Your hands are on Wriothesley's cheeks, gently massaging a moisturizing toner into his skin while he lays there and listens to you.

"Uh-huh, you go, sweetheart." There's the slightest of proud smirks growing on his lips, even as he keeps his eyes closed.

You nod vigorously, appreciating his support. As you turn back to the basket of goodies beside you, you debate on what to put on his face next.

"Hey love," you call him, and one of Wriothesley's icy blue eyes opens. You raise two bottles where he can see them, shaking each. "What are you feeling tonight? The squalane or the niacinamide?"

He hums in the back of his throat, thinking. Then shuts his eyes. "The niacinamide."

You have to fight back a grin, gently tucking the glass bottle for your squalane serum back into your basket. Before you can drop some of Wriothesley's chosen serum on your palms though, he quickly takes hold of one of your hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he mumbles, voice little more than a content rumble, lips ticklish against the back of your hand.

Before you can respond, he gives your hand back to you, and the quirk of his lips is back in place.

"Well?" He asks, leaning his weight even more into your lap. Not unlike a puppy, luxuriating in your hold. Hazily, his eyes meet yours even as he blinks drowsily. Soft and fond as they train on you. "I don't believe you were done telling me about that box of pancake mix."

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[snailmail444]

Bachelor Head Cannons

18+ 🌱 NSFW 🌱 MDNI

Head cannons for all the bachelors masturbation habits under the cut! Send me asks if you want to see more head cannons from me 💞

Harvey-

💚 Harvey spends so much time antsy and anxious, poor guy.

💚 So when he’s getting himself off he needs a gentle touch. Literally and figuratively.

💚 He has a few favorite videos he likes of porn, which he goes back to when he’s getting off.

💚 Professional porn takes him out of it. He’s so worried about if everything is consensual and comfortable and compensated he’s not horny anymore. Even when he can get past that, he just isn’t into the fake porn premises.

💚 Do you really expect him to believe she’s stuck in that washing machine? Get real.

💚 Harvey can really get into it when it’s amateur, and the couple seems like they’re genuinely enjoying each other. Giggling, bumping the camera, whispered “I love you’s.”

💚 Uses a lot of quality lube. As a doctor, he’s going to take proper care of his body. Especially his dick. The last thing he wants is a friction burn on his junk.

💚 Goes nice and slow. He doesn’t want to rush himself when he’s working to relax, so it’s not a race for him.

💚 Eyes fluttering, cheeks flushed, hitching breath when he’s close.

💚 Can only get off when the people in the video have. Cums with a sigh, leaning back in complete satisfaction.

💚 Takes a long shower after and gets excellent rest. It really helps alleviate his stress, so he sleeps like a baby.

Elliott-

❤️ When I tell You this man makes it an EVENT!

❤️ He’s breaking out the candles. He’s got a bubble bath run. He’s got a glass of red wine.

❤️ Elliott is first and foremost a man of luxury. So when it comes to taking care of himself? He is taking CARE of himself.

❤️ We’re talking a long edging session that starts in the tub and ends in his bed. He’s so coy that he even teases himself. Gets him worked UP!

❤️ This is an erotic novel kinda guy if there ever was one. I mean come on. You KNOW he’s reading those flowing sex scenes with flowery language to get off to.

❤️ One hand holding his dick the other holding his book.

❤️ It doesn’t matter if he’s alone, he is talking. Elliott is a wellspring of words, so they’re flowing. Praise and curses and sweet names, all of it. He gets so wrapped up in the fantasy that it feels real to him, and that’s his way to engage with it.

❤️ He’s a romantic, but the stuff that really gets him off is hot and desperate and needy. The love interests of his novel devouring each other after a slow burn or a long break. The passion is where it’s at for him.

❤️ Secretly kinda loves it filthy. Chaste and loving is good and satisfying, but it doesn’t do a ton for him sexually. He wants his sex sloppy, spitty, and utterly human.

❤️ Probably gets off the least out of all the bachelors simply because it’s a whole process for him. He wants to enjoy it with unabashed hedonism.

❤️ Sometimes he’ll eat fruit while he’s doing it just to engage all his senses.

Alex-

🤎 Alex would absolutely be a morning jerker if Evelyn and George weren’t up at the crack of dawn.

🤎 Man wakes up rock hard and would love to do something about it, but since Evelyn knocks on his door for breakfast at a routine seven am, he has to will it away.

🤎 The tradeoff, though, makes it worth the wait. Both of his lovely grandparents are hard of hearing, go to bed early, and George has a loud CPAP machine.

🤎 So when I tell you Alex can be as loud as he wants at night. He can be as loud as he wants. Unless you’re physically shaking his grandparents, they’re sleeping through it.

🤎 Which is a good thing, because Alex is a mouthy guy. Moans, groans, curses, whines, whimpers, you name it. If he has a hand on his dick, he’s making noise.

🤎 It’s a little old fashioned, but Alex has sexy magazines stashed between his mattress and box spring. Video porn is overwhelming to him—he doesn’t know what to search, he just wants some eye candy—so this is the best option he can think of.

🤎 He’s not very fussy, honestly. Low maintenance kinda jerker. As long as he’s looking at somebody he finds attractive, he’s gonna get off.

🤎 And Alex is such a secret romantic, he’s thinking about sweet, tender sex with somebody he would love a whole lot. His hand takes the same rhythm he imagines he’d use fucking slow and deep.

🤎 This is the way that Alex ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper. Man is whining as he strokes himself through his orgasm.

🤎 Has a few tissues he uses to clean up and then passes directly out. Rinse and repeat three times/week.

Shane-

💙 Okay it depends.

💙 If he’s still drinking he doesn’t jerk off that much because he’s got chronic whiskey dick.

💙 BUT. After that? Oh boy.

💙 Shane’s surprised by his own libido when he’s sober. It’s, like, all the time. He thinks maybe it’s because he didn’t get off for so long that he’s making up for lost time.

💙 He gets a surprising amount of privacy in the old ranch house, which he has never been more thankful for. It doesn’t hurt that Marnie snore pretty loud and Jas sleeps like the dead, so most of the night is free to him.

💙 However. Some nights it’s just not feasible. Cough, cough, thanks Lewis.

💙 Luckily, Shane’s got his secret spot. The dock never gets any foot traffic, literally ever. He absolutely will go out there to take care of himself if he needs to.

💙 Big lotion guy. He needs it especially because his hands are rough from all the work he does with them. The callouses feel good if he’s got enough lubricant, though.

💙 Can go either way on porn. Sometimes he likes to watch a good video of what he’s in the mood for, but he doesn’t need it.

💙 He gets off more on memories than anything else. Some of his best fucks are vivid enough in his mind he almost feels like he’s back there when he gets off on it.

💙 And if he has a crush on somebody? Man doesn’t need much. Getting off thinking about how they looked on their knees the other day, about how his cum would look on their face. In the moment he has no shame in thinking about the object of his affections. That’ll come later.

💙 Bites his wrist to keep himself quiet. Not because anybody can hear him, but because he gets embarrassed about the noises he makes and how into it he gets.

💙 Gets desperate for release towards the end. Bucking his hips up and fucking his fist until he cums over his tense stomach. His face is complete bliss, and typically he forgets to muffle that last moan anymore because he’s too caught up in his pleasure.

💙 Post nut clarity hits him a little too hard sometimes. He feels a lot of guilt and shame he’s still working through. Therapy’s helping, though.

Sam-

🩷 Poor Sammy never gets any proper alone time. It’s not the easiest for him to just get off whenever the urge comes on him.

🩷 Which is incredibly unfortunate, because the urge comes on him…often, to say the least.

🩷 Let’s be real. It’s probably once a day, sometimes twice. Man’s sex drive is insane. Truly just insatiable.

🩷 But the walls of his house are paper thin, he has no lock on his door, and his mom and Vincent are always busting in. He only gets a shred of privacy in his shower, and even that’s difficult because he shares with Vincent. Hard to get off when his tiny fists are constantly pounding on the door.

🩷 So Sam can’t just jack it at a moments notice. He has to wait until everybody is asleep, because blessedly Jodi and Vince go to bed early, and Kent is usually in bed by ten pm sharp. Thank God for that military sense of routine.

🩷 As soon as it’s lights out, Sam’s got an earbud in and a hand in his boxers. He’s so desperate and needy by the end of the day that he has to bite his shirt to keep from moaning with relief.

🩷 Man adores porn. LOVES. Porn. He needs a visual aid for his fantasies, and some good audio doesn’t hurt his feelings.

🩷 Sweet Sam has a possessive streak. He tries to find videos where one of the people looks like whoever he’s into at the time, and he imagines it’s him fucking them.

🩷 And if the video has a good cumshot? He’s gone. Fucking wasted. His hand will slide feverishly up and down his cock until he’s cumming right along with them, the whole time imagining it’s him marking up his crush and making them his.

🩷 By the grace of Yoba he hasn’t been caught yet, but he’s always rushing because he’s paranoid somebody will find him with a hand around his dick or cum all over his abdomen.

Sebastian-

🖤 Unlike Sam, he has almost complete privacy the majority of the time.

🖤 Robin spared no expense on soundproofing their house, so nobody can hear anything unless they’re pressed up against his door.

🖤 And since nobody bothers him, and he’s got a sturdy lock, it’s never a problem. He can get off really whenever he wants to.

🖤 When he was in high school, it was all the time. If he had a second alone, he was probably jerking off.

🖤 Now though, it’s tapered off. He only has to get off once a week, maybe a few times if he’s really worked up about something.

🖤 And with his computer setup? He has a full Cinematic experience. Full screen, over-ear headphones, reclined back in his gamer chair. His dick pulled out of his boxers and his shirt rucked up to his chest. Sebastian is taking complete advantage of every luxury he has available to him.

🖤 Let’s be real. He’s an Only Fans kinda guy. Sebastian has specific tastes, and he likes the convenience of having content he likes ready and available. Plus, he’s not about to risk any viruses on his computer.

🖤 It doesn’t hurt that it’s more ethical that way. Sex work is real work, and deserves proper compensation, which he’s more than happy to give.

🖤 As for the content? We circle back to his specific tastes. He likes soft BDSM. No intense stuff, but the dirty talk aspect especially does it for him. Spanking or light choking are about as hardcore as he likes.

🖤 But the thing that’s guaranteed to get him off? Oral. Every single time. He loves to go down on people—he’s borderline obsessed with it, actually. It’s something he can’t personally put his finger on (it’s called an oral fixation buddy), but he cums so hard thinking about leaving purpling hickies along thighs and using his tongue to get his partner off.

🖤 And since he prioritizes heavily on having a clean space, he has everything ready to clean himself up. Especially important since he cums a lot.

[ellaa-writes]

The Beast Within

author note: Part 7, part 6 here. 2k words. Kind of a filler chapter but I'm building up for something. Thanks for all the support on the last part and my other fics. Means so much and has given me a boost of confidence to start writing again. Good Dog 3 coming soon! Also part 2 to the Roommate fic. Any ideas or requests are welcomed, Enjoy :) masterlist

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: Alternative Universe. Female Reader, A/b/o dynamics. Mean Konig is back. Roze is a "doctor" in this. Mentions of dead bodies, blood, violence. Reader has had enough and does something drastic. Vomit and other bodily fluids. Not proof read.

Following around the Russian has been nothing more than annoying. Watching the slimy bastard eat his dinner and fuck his whores. Nothing solid just yet, it's been a nonstop week of tailing him.

Your calls stopped coming in, but he did arrange for a friend to stop by. Make sure you are eating and taking care of yourself. And also for some socialization.

Every time you try to leave the house he gets notified by the guards standing by. Every mean and nasty word you say to them. All logged into a file, a little proud of your fierceness against the Betas.

König was getting restless himself, currently taking a break while Simon stalked Makarov. Keeping him informed on his every move. They needed more evidence, more of a reason to tamp him out other than some gossip.

König avoided checking the security cameras, expecting the house to be a shit storm. On one of his excursions following Makarov he stopped in a jewelry store. Picking out a beautiful diamond necklace, planning on using it as some sort of collar.

It was late enough into the night that you should be in bed. Or asleep somewhere, from the logs it seems you've been using the livingroom as your central station. Anytime one of the Beta guards enter the house you scream and snarl until they leave.

Making notes for himself to start your training soon as he got back. He's hoping just another week, if not two.

On the other hand you have completely lost your mind.

The house in disarray, you pulled open every drawer and cabinet in the house. Throwing the contains on the floor, you weren't internally sure what you were looking for.

The days rolled on and you slowly began losing faith. You stopped contacting König all together, declaring that if he is dead that it was good riddance. You can got back to your normal life.

Maybe you would even get a pay out, some sort of compensation for a lost mate. Those being rare but still happen. Some even being lavished in luxury, true freedom you thought.

After waking from one of your many anger induced naps you found yourself at the dammed wooden door. Willing it to unlock and burst open.

Leaving the dark hallway and finding the tool kit stashed away in the laundry room. You dragged the kit into the living area and towards the direction of the door. Not really sure what the plan is.

You tried every screwdriver you could find to try and pry the lock off the damn thing. Even using a few hammers to bang on the knob it's self. The only progress you made was loosening the knob and creating a bunch of scratches and dents.

A ding and knock echoed through the home. Making you jump back from your work, causing you to hastily stuff the tools back into the box and slide it into a random closet. You nearly ran to the door, peaking through the peep hole.

A brown headed women stood in front of the door, a guard at her left as she waited for you.

Hesitantly you undid every lock and latch, doing them up after getting frustrated at the spies checking in on you.

You swung the door open, staring the women down. She was dressed fairly professional, she carried a small bag at her side whole the guard held a few other larger bags.

"Oh Hi. You must be the Omega." she gave you a bright smile. It warmed up your cold heart, spreading through your bones.

"How are you?" your voice came out almost sheepish. "What are you doing here?" you followed a little more confidently. Standing your ground, wanting answers before you let this strange women into your home, well König home.

"Did he not tell you?" she asked concerned, turning to look at the guard to her side who shook his head no.

"I swear he's always been horrible with communication. I apologize on his behalf you sweet thing." she held the small bag up to your face. "I brought pastries." you could smell the delicious sweetness through the bag.

"You can call me Dr. Roze." you grabbed the bag and stepped to the side. Allowing her in but stopping the guard. "It's ok Angelo. You can leave the bags at the door. Don't want to upset the Omega." the guard froze, looking at you with worry before he dropped the bags on the floor and closed the door behind him.

"Sorry for the sudden intrusion like this." Dr. Roze spoke, looking around at the state of the house. You felt a tad embarrassed, pushing a pile of papers and junk off to the side as you say at the kitchen bar. Pulling out the Danish and muffins.

"Have you been eating? König called concerned you've been neglecting yourself." she turned to you, watching as you chewed and swallowed the treat.

It hit heavy in your stomach, the same feeling of anger and distrust eating it whole.

"You talked to him? He's alive?" you felt a little disappointed. Having convinced yourself he died, but now coming to the realization that he has been ignoring you.

All the days you've cried for him, his touch and scent. You completely lost your appetite, shoving the treats into the trash and slamming in closed.

"Yes dear. As he not keep contact?" she regarded you with concern.

"No." you spat. Suddenly becoming hostile to this strange women. A women who your Alpha would rather talk to than you.

"I think you should leave." you forcibly said. Moving further away from the women. You could feel the anger rising in you.

"I don't think that's a good thing right now. You are in destress and that's not good for the pup." she tried to approach you but you nearly tripped over your feet getting away from her.

You couldn't stop the tears from falling, the way your chest tightened, the way your small breakfast what's to come up. You rush around the other side of the big island and too the guest bathroom. Spilling your stomach into the porcelain sink.

Dr. Roze keeping her distance but following suit. Pulling your hair out of your face as she turns the water on. Letting the cold water drip into the back of your neck.

"Deep breaths now, come on. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Just like that, good omega. Good." she cooed to you. Allowing her to help you.

She managed to calm you down, now sitting in the large tub filled up to your shoulders. You had your knees pulled to your chest, resting your chin on top.

You could hear Dr. Roze cleaning up the house. You also smelt something yummy cooking away. Still unsure how to feel about the situation. You wanted to hate her. Why her. Why not you.

Shaking your head to rid you of those thoughts. Deciding you were done soaking, draining the tub as you dried off and pulled your thickest and fluffiest robe on. You sat on the end of the bed, the bed you haven't laid on since the day König left.

That bastard.

It still smelt like him, the whole room smelt like him. It made your feel warm inside but also made you want to throw up again. After a few long moments you got dressed and made your way back to Dr. Roze.

Stopping before you entered the living area, you could hear her hushed yelling. She must be on the phone, she sounds pretty mad.

Finally emerging, she gave you one of her warm smiles and abruptly hung the phone up.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" she chirped. The idea of going outside, beyond the patios. You jumped at the opportunity, digging out your comfortable shoes from the coat closet and pulling on your favorite sweater.

"Are you sure.... That I can?" you questioned warily. Anytime you tried leaving the place you were marched back in. "Don't worry about it honey." she guided you out of the house, waiting in the hallway for the elevator. You've never been more excited, even though you still don't know this women. She could be leading you to your death but long as it happened out of that penthouse.

"When was the last time you just, you know, walked around." Dr. Roze kept with your pace, which was slow. "The night I met König. Which about about 2 months ago now. Wait 3 actually. Time moves differently when your stuck inside all the time." the weather was a tad chilly but you enjoyed it.

Dr. Roze just hummed beside you, letting you to continue in silence. After a few silence moments you can hear her phone buzzing. But she ignored it the first few times before finally digging it out and answering the call.

You could hear a deep angry voice in the other end. Slowing down and coming to a stop when Dr. Roze hung the phone up.

"I think it's time for us to head back, shall we? Maybe we can try to eat again." she turned to start going towards the way your came from.

"Are you really a Doctor?" you asked as you caught up to her. "Of course dear." she looked at your side ways.

"So what you said was true. That I'm... you know." you trailed off not wanting to say it out loud.

"You didn't know?" she asked, genuinely shocked. "You couldn't smell it? I did soon as you opened the door." she finished nonchalantly.

You just shook your head, your mind when to the lump of cells forming in your womb. Your would be wrapping right now if she had anymore to give.

Dr. Roze's phone never stopped buzzing but you both with ignored it on the walk to the penthouse.

Once inside the lobby waiting for the elevator you turned to Dr. Roze with a fake big smile. "It was really nice meeting you, I wish not see you again." it came out flat, your smile not reaching you eyes.

The doors opened you entered, pushing the close door option. Watching as Dr. Roze stared at you belligerently while the doors slid close.

You marched past the on duty guards, unlocking the door to your home. Slamming it closed behind you.

König knew he shouldn't have trusted that wretched women. Telling him he shouldn't have his doll locked up, under supervision. And then repeatedly violating his commands and than ignoring him.

He watched as his Omega entered the home by herself, disappearing towards the bedroom.

His phone buzzed, Roze, spitting in disgust he brought the device to his ear.

"Speak." he barked, hearing her breathing in the other end.

"You sure know how to pick them." her unamused voice carried through. "She doesn't want to talk to me. Locking herself back in that cage you call a home." she spat back

"I don't need your service anymore, your to incompetent." König was watching the screen, you've been out of sight for some time. Wishing he installed one in the bedroom, but knowing he treasures his privacy as well.

"You can't keep her-" the annoying women started but König cut her off. "I'm not repeating myself. Now make yourself scarces." he was the one to hang up the phone now.

Tossing it to the side, Makarov groaning in the distance. Simon was patiently waiting, keep the bastard alive just enough to get everything they needed from him.

His boots echoed throughout the empty factory, bodies scattered around. The smell of crimson heavy in the air.

"Now back to you." he purred out, his fist connecting to the side of the Russians face. "Do we have an agreement? Or do I have to show you again?" König motioned for Simon but the Russian spoke first.

"No, no! I understand." he said through the blood dripping out of his mouth. Simon grabbed his hair to the scalp, yanking back so he could make eye contact with him. "Where's your manners?" he growled down at the bleeding man.

"I understand my Alpha." Makarov coughed out, his broken face shining in the dim light. The Beast smiled down at him this time "Pack him up dog, make sure he finds his way home." König dismissed them. Watching as Simon dragged the man out of the building.

Finally some peace he thought, until his phone began going off back on the desk. It was his alarm, the one he installed on his desk. Opening up the cameras on the laptop König watched has his little Omega stood at his desk. The door in shambles and a sledge hammer leaning against the frame.

Getting the door open was the hardest part, using the flat head screw driver to pry open the desk was easy. Searching to contents, scattering them around the oak desk. Scanning through documents after documents about things you didn't understand.

You began rummaging around different files, nothing made sense to you. Just a bunch of numbers and dates. Not until you came across a file with pictures, but not just any pictures.

Bodies, all dead. In all stages of decay, some fresh. Some cut open and others still alive, well half alive. Your mouth hung agape as you looked through them all. Why would König have these? Are they evidence? Are they even his?

Who is he?

Tag list: @plumdreadful @traumaramacenter @kaylp-godly @napalmfairy7 @hisa-plush @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @winters-doll @joyfulfxckery @purebeskar @collete25 @fandomsinthegalaxies @jamieelol @luc1ddreamersatnight @cringeycookies @whiskytoast @kit-williams @lyc0risequin0x

[tonyboneysblog]

ACCIDENTAL NAB P2

paring: thief!hawks x princess!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: profanity

Notes: part two! I really love this series sm😭 hawks his mean also

Summary: thief!hawks steals you away and takes you far from your home! On accident…

Part one: ACCIDENTAL NAB P1

You feel warm. you’re soundly sleeping after you dosed off, still not trusting the three men who took you away from your home.. (obviously)

your dreams have never been nice ones but for once they feel warm, you can vividly see all of your sisters crammed together trying to guess all the words in your fathers books.

you can hear them laughing while you walk into the room, they see you and their eyes brighten.

They practically beg you to read the book aloud to the three of them, you walk over and cuddle into their warmth. They whisper soft comments about the story while slowing falling under sleeps spell.

It’s so warm in this dream, you want to be here for- flick!

you open your eyes to see yellow ones staring right into your very soul.

“Morning!” He loudly chirps.

“…mph” your mouth is still gagged by the cloth, of course it is.

“Well I’m assuming that’s a good response instead of an insult…”

You look around the carriage, it’s not terrible but it’s not as good as yours back at home…obviously.

Dabi speaks up, “listen here and listen good, princess, we don’t need you causing a..ruckus while we’re in this god forsaken place.”

“Hey I quite like this trading post” the blonde responds.

“Shut the hell up hawks.” Dabi says curtly.

Hawks raises his hands in the air as a surrender motion, while Tokoyami hustles towards you. Guiding you out of the carriage .

“Just follow close to us.” Tokoyami says in a whisper.

You glance around the bigger town, many are staring, many scoff…for some reason.

Your used to the stares, mostly because your the princess, but still your surprised no one has recognized you yet? Don’t you people love you, shouldn’t they immediately recognize someone they worship?!

You wish you could just run away but, these three men are huddled around you like your some…Someone to be bought! And you are in fact priceless.

The four of you pass by many shops, some more worn down than others…god you miss your kingdom.

“There’s the bar…” Dabi says.

Hawks scoffs, “please Dabi, we’re with royalty at the moment, maybe don’t think about getting wasted?”

Dabi sighs, slouching down slightly in defeat…”her damn fault for hiding in a box.”

Tokoyami snickers softly, until you send him a glare that could envy your fathers.

He clears his throat, “don’t question the future queens decisions…”

Dabi laughs, “if she’s the future queen then we’re all doomed, thank the gods we took-“

“Could you two maybe not speak so loudly of us having the princess..?” Hawks angrily whispers towards the two.

They all finally shut their traps. You’d rather listen to your sister rant about how ‘gorgeous the gardener is!’.

you just want to be with your family honestly.

Your father always bossed you around anyways, you should be glad for this small bit of freedom! But, he only did it because he loved you…or maybe because you looked so much like your mother.

No, no, no thinking about the past…these men don’t even deserve to see your tears roll down your face! They’d probably collect them and sell it to the night market anyway…

You finally reached the shop you were supposed to be at, you watch as some of your most luxurious items go towards the shop keeper, as his eyes widen with glee.

“Sorry about your stuff…” Tokoyami whispers softly into your ear, “we do what we have to.”

“Mmphph”

The four of you leave after making a deals, the men stashing the shined golden coins into their pouches. How has no one recognized you still? Can’t they see your their next Queen?!

no matter how many eyes you stare dead into, no one even makes a move to help. Maybe they’re just scared to butt in!

or maybe…they don’t even know who you are.

you shake your head, I mean you weren’t as popular as your sisters, with all their beauty and charm…but! You were the oldest. Maybe that’s why no prince asked for your hand in marriage.

No, y/n stop that, you are just as great as all your sisters! Someone will have to recognize you, right?

“Should we rest here for the night sir?” Tokoyami says to hawks.

Hawks looks glances at you, then towards Tokoyami, “you tired ‘Yami?”

Tokoyami nods, “only slightly, I’m just worried for the…our friend here.”

Three kidnappers worried about your sleep schedule is absolutely perplexing to you.

“Yknow my favorite thing about SableStome has always been their amazing inns.” Dabi says with dullness.

Hawks laughs, “Can’t tell if you’re being serious or sarcastic.”

Dabi sighs, “Their beds are nice.”

Hawks then confidently starts to stride to the inn, “I suppose we have to stay then, right?”

confident men are always your least favorite, I mean no man has actually spoken more than 10 words to you but still.

Honesty you feel a twinge of excitement that you’ll be sleeping in a nice soft bed instead of a small, stuffy carriage…or box.

Hawks swings open the door to the inn and walks over towards the front desk, “two beds please~” he coos out.

The woman at the front desk smiles softly, “it’s nice to see you again hawks, new friend coming with you?” She ushers towards you.

no, your not their new “traveling buddy”, your the very popular and very kidnapped princess!

“Yep! She’s not the talker though…” says hawks.

Of course you’re not a talker, you’re being gagged by some nasty hanker cheif.

“Alrighty, here’s your key!” She slides the key over towards hawks.

“Thank you sweetie..” he says.

The sun has almost finished setting, you can tell from the window you’re looking out of, it’s gorgeous…reminds you of when your mother would take you to the shoreline and spill wise words from her mouth.

it’s truly terrible that you no longer remember a single thing she’s said.

“Hey, snap out of it” Hawks comes into your peripherals, “we got a nice room for ya, princess, cmon…”

He walks away. It’d be nice to get some rest..at least you couldn’t think about the past in your sleep, or atleast not too in depth.

You walk up the stairs, following behind hawks closely, opening the door then looking around the room.

It’s about the size of your closet, not terrible, the beds are kinda big at-least, only two…wait two?

Who in gods name is trying to cuddle up to you in the middle of the night? No princess should be…even sleeping near someone of their status!

Hawks looks towards your distressed expression, “What?”

“Mphpmph!” You muffle out.

“Do you want the gag off..?”

Well it would be nice, but that wasn’t what you were trying to say!

“Mrmphphpm”

“I mean…promise you won’t yell?” He says softly.

Well there’s really no point in yelling, what’s the clerk gonna do against three men….

You nod eagerly, hawks shakes his head letting out a small chuckle, “fine, fine.”

He pulls down your hood, undoes your scarf, then unties your gag, pocketing it. Slightly gross but at least it’s off now.

“You must be out of your damned, trivial, insignificant mind if you think I’m even sharing a bed with you, you big boned avian.”

Hawks sighs, “I didn’t take it off so you could just be mean…”

“you heard me.” You say.

Hawks looks at you, “what do you want me to do, sleep on the floor?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking! glad your meager brain could think the same as me.”

“Alright the gag is going back on-“ “w-wait hold on!”

Hawks stops, raising his eyebrow.

“I-I uhm…it is improper for someone of my status to sleep with...you.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, “look, you may think your reallll important but your sisters are way more admired than you are. We barely even recognized you as royalty.”

well ouch…

He continues, “Not to mention that not one single person has even tried to help you, so stop complaining about who you sleep next to.”

Tokoyami steps in, “no need to be so harsh to her, Hawks, I doubt you would want to sleep near people who accidentally kidnapped you..?”

“Well she wanted to be all sassy!” Hawks says agitated.

Dabi speaks from the bed, “I say she needed the wake-up call.”

“You’re not helping.” Tokoyami says.

You stomp over towards the vacant bed, slamming yourself down into it.

“Hm, guess she’s over it!” Hawks says cheerfully.

Tokoyami and Dabi sigh, hawks looks at both of them, “what?”

Their voices slowing fade as you push yourself farther and farther into your own head. You’re already having a terrible time, being kidnapped and all, but they just rub the salt deeper into the wound!

How would mother respond? never mind actually, she would have never fussed in the first place. Father most likely would have beat their head into a plup. Mother made him soft, made you soft, then she was gone.

Your sisters barely remember her, but you remember her smile, your father says she looks exactly like you.

You can feel the a second weight be put onto the bed, you don’t care who it is, hopefully it’s the nice bird headed one.

do your sisters miss you as much as you miss them? Who’ll read to them, who’ll will be there to check their dress or if they look presentable enough to see the man who wants their hand in marriage?

You open your eyes slightly, looking towards a window. It’s dark out, how long have you been stuck in your own head?

You rise from the bed quietly, you look at the door, it’s locked tight so you can run out. You make your way towards the windowsill, sitting down.

Your tired but not tired enough to fall asleep just yet, your heads to full of thoughts anyway, when have you ever been this sentimental?

The moon is beautiful tonight, bright and fully lit. You’re glad your father taught you how to read because then you’d never know how the moon changes.

You didn’t know which one you liked more, the sun or the moon? Then again the sun could shine by itself while the moon needed the sun to shine even half as bright.

“What’re you doing..?” Says a soft, sleepy voice.

You look over to where the voice could’ve been, locking eyes with yellow ones.

“Nothing.” You says curtly.

Hawks rubs his eyes, “your one weird princess, huh?”

“That’s rude.”

“You’re rude.”

There’s silence after hawks speaks.

“Well-“

He cuts you off, “Come back to bed.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I just don’t want a grumpy princess in the morning…”

You huff, “fine.” Then plop yourself onto the bed, “don’t suffocate me with your wings, I’m important.”

“Sure you are…” he says tiredly.

“I am.”

“I’m not disagreeing.”

“good.”

You close your eyes, the warmth he emits isn’t…terrible. In fact, it’s quite comforting.

“Hey” hawks whispers.

“what.” Your reply quietly.

“Why were you in that box, no judgement it’s just…weird?”

You sigh, “I was…playing hide and seek.”

He starts laughing, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t wake the others, “stupid…”

He flips around, facing you. “sorry that we took you…”

“yes, you should be..”

“You are so hard to be nice to..”

“My father-“

“I don’t wanna hear about your father, I already see his face in every town we go to.”

Well isn’t that insulting, your father is wonderful!…wait, do the people see your face too?

“Hmph.”

“What?”

“Do you see my face too?…in public?”

Hawks looks towards the ceiling, then back at you, “I see your sisters more.”

“Hm…”

That’s why no one recognized you, your barely even publicized.

“Don’t know why though, I personally think you’re prettier than your sisters” he says faintly.

“Really?”

“no.”

“Asshole.”

He starts giggles, his wings puffing up slightly.

“Such a way with words eh? I’ll leave you alone now”

“good, your terrible company.”

He snickers and turns to his side, facing away from you.

“Night, princess”

You only hum in agreement.

It’s not terrible here, but you oh so badly want out from this small freedom.

[lgwifey]

Homesick Part 1

“Hello Forks”

human!Fem!reader x platonic!EdwardCullen

summary : Y/n’s dad had been given a new job offer, meaning she had to drag herself half way across the world to a town that shame was positive rained more than London had.

A thin layer of dust sat on the cardboard boxes. They'd only been there for a few days, sitting waiting for their owners to arrive in the once derelict house.

Beside the over-wrapped boxes sat more, newer cardboard boxes of various shapes and sizes.

"See, I told you everything would arrive fine."

The miserable teenager didn't change her facial expression, jumping slightly when her mother made her presence known.

"Worried over nothing y/n. You're gonna give yourself a stroke from all that one day dear."

The sixteen year old just gave a small hum in reply, walking further into the blank canvas of a room as her mother wondered off to explore more of the new house.

She didn't have too much to do, her dad had been there very for the few months before her and her mother to get the house half liveable before they arrived. He hadn't done much, just made sure the workmen had put new flooring were on the three levels and painted all the rooms a soft white base. He was far too busy with his new job to actually do the work himself.

That's why they'd moved over.

4846 miles.

Y/n didn't want to leave London, her exact responce to the proposal being 'are you off your head !?". All her friends were there, all her family. She literally had to pick up her entire life because of this promotion.

After a while of staring off into space, Y/n decided there was no point waiting any more of the day. She was jet lagged and dehydrated but she was determined to get at least her bed put together before the sun started to set, which was luckily quite a while away due to the time changes, something else that she was going to need to get used to.

She wondered back over to the doorway she'd been stood in a moment before, unzipping her carry-on bag to find her phone charger and the American plug adapter she had stashed away. She'd buy a new charger soon but this would work fine for the time being.

It took her a while to find a album she wanted to listen to, she had a bunch of perfect playlists burned but they where all in the cardboard boxes that she wasn't planning on unpacking until tomorrow which left her with too many decision and her iPod, leaving her to just press play on one of Britney's album and start dragging the new cardboard boxes to the middle of the room, using a pair of kitchen scissors her mother had left for her to slice open the packages.

"Y/n !"

The scream from outside her room broke the girl from her furniture k-hole. Her eye-line looking up from the vanity's draws that she'd just finished putting together, twisting to look towards the entrance to the room.

"What !"

“Dinner !"

She gave a small huff, wiping her hands on the black track pants she'd been wearing since the beginning of the 19 hour flight. She was too tired to change them before... and they're comfy.

As she went to stand up from her knelt position, only for her knee to disagree with the action.

She landed with a thump, her attempt to hold onto the wall for support failing.

"Y/n !"

“Yep !"

She stretched her legs out this time before trying to move, wondering down the dramatic staircase before reaching the room she'd heard her parents conversation in.

In the room was a pair of luxury sofas, a three seater with a corner that was in front of the window and a two seater opposite it, against the wall which lead to the half boxed up kitchen. The old wooden coffee table from their London home was sat in between the two, a small smile fell on her chapped lips at the small piece of home. It had been in her great-grandma's house before she passed and she had been worried that it would be one of the prices left in a charity shop or to another family member.

On top of the dark coffee table was a stack of pizza boxes, the only option since the kitchen was still empty other than its shell of an island and cupboards.

"Obviously this is just a treat, since the kitchens still empty."

"Of course."

Y/n slouched down beside her dad, ripping one of the lids off a box and dropping a slice onto the cardboard. Her mother's health freak serious tone was a direct contrast to her father's humorous reply.

“How's everything going Cherry Pie, your mum says you've been up there since you landed."

She looked over, hair thrown into a loose hair claw, a few strands having fallen out jurying her construction process. She finished her mouthful of crust, nodding before her reply could come.

"I've finished the bed frame, vanity and putting my walls up. Could you help me later getting my mattress on ? I tried but it's really heavy."

" 'course I can."

He was met with his daughter's wide smile. He knew this move was difficult for her. Not only because of all the change with her social life and the different continents obvious differences but also because of the schooling differences.

The sixteen year old had fought with her life to get the through the last four years of high school, finally finishing with top grades, only for the different school system to send her back for an extra two years. Luckily they'd been able to get her moved up a year with the academic differences between the English and American school schedules, but the point stood that neither of Y/n’s parents knew if she was going to be able to get through the next ten months with her emotions in tact.

part Two

Masterlist

[scoops-aboy86]

not to add to your wip's but... Eddie saying this to Steve as he watches him cook breakfast on their six month anniversary https://www.tumblr.com/heavyheavycream/735906040127930368/small-dialogue-i-thought-would-be-cute?source=share :)

Oh you. (I'm not complaining, this gave me something to do on a three hour flight. 😋)

Ugh, this turned out so domestic and sweet that I'm getting a toothache.

❤️🥞🫐❤️🥞🫐❤️🥞🫐❤️🥞🫐❤️🥞🫐❤️🥞🫐❤️🥞🫐

Eddie has never been in a relationship where he got to celebrate anniversaries before. Hell, he’s never been in a relationship before, full-stop, let alone a long term one. 

Steve has, but he always points out that it wasn’t exactly a successful one—whatever was between him and Nancy to start with had started its emergency descent the night Barb died, or maybe the afternoon he’d stood back and let Tommy H. spray paint slut on a movie theater marquee. Either way, he’d missed the memo and never assumed a crash position, and that had been one hell of a thump on the head. 

And Eddie knows this. He knows that bullshit eroded a lot of Steve’s confidence in keeping someone interested long term, not helped by the way his parents seem to have forgotten they have a son and a home in Hawkins. He and Steve have talked about it, just like he’s admitted his worries that he’s only ever a temporary attraction, a warm willing hand or mouth, or a hard dick, good only for back alley or bar bathroom lust. He’s had some grimy one night stands that never moved on from standing and lasted less than ten minutes, and on some level he’d likened that to his mom dying (leaving him) when he was still little and his dad’s short attention span for anything that wasn’t shiny and easy to pawn. 

They’re both damaged goods, is the thing; they even have enough scars to prove it to any casual observer at a quick glance. And everyone has always taken one look at Eddie Munson and thought they knew exactly what he was: poor, abandoned, trailer trash, nerd, metalhead, super senior, cult leader, trouble. 

But he wakes up and rolls over, stretching and yawning, to find a note on Steve’s side of their shaded bed, right on the pillow that still smells of expensive shampoo, and it reads, Happy 6 month Anniverasry Eds!

It makes Eddie feel warm all over, spelling error and all. So loved, that Steve never lets his runaway imagination get the mistaken idea that his boyfriend is gone gone. 

He continues stretching, going lazily through the morning routine that will help keep his right leg from cramping up the way it’s prone to doing now. Luxuriates in rolling around without restriction, arching his back up from the mattress and letting out a little moan as his spine pops a little, because it feels satisfying. An outward (inward?) echo of how his life has fallen into place since the Upside Down. First a free man, then a high school graduate, an honest to god boyfriend, and now gainfully employed at a record shop. It’s not glamorous, but he doesn’t need glamor anymore. Rock star life doesn’t hold the same appeal now that he’s been in the worst kind of spotlight, and as a taken man the only other appeal would be the freer access to hard drugs, which… pass. He’s retired his old metal lunch box, except to house his personal weed stash. 

Speaking of, he sits up and looks around for it only to find a joint already rolled and waiting for him on the nightstand. He recognizes Steve’s handiwork with a smile, and takes it up along with the lighter waiting beside it to hit the green. 

It’s gonna be a good day. 

He feels nice and loose by the time he leaves the bedroom, barefoot and clad in boxers and a faded crop top that’s seen better days. His stomach rumbles and he gives it an absent pat, scratching idly beneath where it curves out more and more these days as he shuffles down the hall to the kitchen where he can already hear Steve singing a Tears for Fears song. 

“—Don’t take my heart don’t break my heart don’t, don’t, don’t da da da da…”

Eddie takes a seat on one of the tall chairs along the outer counter that separates the kitchen proper from their second hand breakfast table. He knows that Steve notices the scrape of it against the linoleum because he perks up, not turning yet because he’s alternating between flipping fried eggs and pancakes in different pans on the stove, reaching over them to give the third pan of bacon on one of the back burners a shake to make sure it isn’t sticking. The fourth burner is occupied by a lidded pot with steam leaking faintly around the edges, likely some sort of berry topping for the pancakes, because Eddie likes to drown his in more than just syrup and melted butter. 

And, frankly, Steve likes to spoil him. It shows in the way Eddie’s arm spreads a little where it rests on top of the open counter shelf and pushes his softened pec up to a rounded curve at the stretched collar of his top, and the way his belly plops onto the countertop below when he leans forward. His thick thighs have sent the legs of his boxers riding up again, pushed to kiss the waistband where it’s been rolled in the opposite direction by the weight of his midsection. He knows that his ass is spreading on the vinyl seat and will make a noise whenever he stands up, and that he’s developed some serious love handles and back rolls. Who the fuck cares about that, though, when his man is cooking him a mouthwatering spread for breakfast and humming a dumb pop song about being head over fucking heels? Eddie props his other arm on the shelf and his cheek on one hand, swinging his legs contentedly and enjoying the way it makes parts of him wobble with the motion. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Steve calls over his shoulder, and Eddie chuckles indulgently at how dorky it is, keeps kicking his feet. 

“A feast, by the looks of it, Stevie,” he teases. “Did you invite anyone else to our special anniversary breakfast without telling me?”

“I didn’t even invite you, nerd,” comes the retort. “You were supposed to still be in bed so I could bring it to you and feed you there.”

Eddie smirks. “What can I say, baby. I got hungry. Got the little gift you wrapped for me, though… smoked it all up, hope you didn’t want any.”

“That’s alright,” Steve says, and flips a perfectly golden pancake onto an already stacked plate with a grace born of practice. “I knew you wouldn’t leave leftovers.”

“Damn right,” Eddie murmurs, ogling both the food and Steve’s perfect pert ass in white briefs. It’s nothing compared to his own these days, but he’s quite partial to it. Could make a feast of it in fact, and has. But that’s not what this morning is about. 

Steve must feel his gaze, because he wiggles his hips enticingly before sliding the eggs out onto another plate, piling the bacon on next to and a little on top of them. A third plate has a stack of pre-buttered toast, and Eddie licks his lips at all of the above as Steve takes the lid off the pot and ladles a thick, sticky substance over both toast and pancakes—smells like blueberries today. Of course it is; blueberries are Eddie’s favorite. 

His empty belly gives an anticipatory rumble. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie says, licking his lips. “You remember our first night together?”

And oh, what a night that had been. Back when Eddie had still been thin as a rail, thinner than usual after his near death experience and still fresh off a hospital discharge. All pent up from a long stretch of heated fantasies about what Steve sticking by his bedside almost constantly could mean. So of course Steve had been the one to drive him home, since Wayne had run out of time off from the plant. Of course Steve had stayed to keep him company, and Eddie had suggested they smoke up because he had to do something to keep from getting all in his own head about it, and Steve had agreed and then kept watching him with those eyes. Fuck, a guy could drown in those things, and Eddie had, and then Steve had kissed him and whispered wonderful things. And Eddie had thought, Okay, at least I get to live the dream for a bit, then life’ll go back to normal once I fall asleep and he takes off. 

“Yeah,” Steve says now, turning off the burners and turning to face Eddie with a tender look on his face. The same one Eddie had first seen upon waking six months earlier to find he’d been wrong, that Steve hadn’t left after all. 

Eddie favors him with a slow smile. “Remember the next morning, when you told me that food was your love-language?”

“Yeah, I remember.” A hint of red warms Steve’s cheeks, and he starts picking up the plates. There are only three this time, but he can stack two on each arm when he needs to, Eddie’s seen him do it. His man is so capable, it’s really such a fucking turn-on. “Why?”

Smile turned up to full-on dimples now, Eddie leans forward just a little bit more. Puts the full heft of himself even more on display because he knows Steve loves it, loves how soft and insatiable he’s become, outsides matching how he’s always felt about Hawkins’ golden boy on the inside. “Because, baby… I feel very loved right now.”

Steve’s laugh is delighted, giddy, perfect. He shoos Eddie down the hall back to the bedroom of their new apartment, following with the food that means I love Eddie Munson even though neither of them has officially said it yet. They’re still both a bit broken, a bit fragile, but healing. 

It’s the first major relationship milestone Eddie has ever gotten to celebrate, and it’s sweeter than syrup mixed with homemade blueberry compote.

[kiraixi]

Pestering pretty boys

Tuesday 28th March ✩ Angst:  “Leave me alone” (Flip-Reverse) @harringrove-flip-reverse-it

Billy doesn’t feel that good today. He’s been sniffling and coughing all day, probably a caution for forgetting a jacket yesterday. 

It’s not his fault that the sun was shining like it’s fucking mid July only to down pour two hours later, he actually tried dressing right for once!

He’s wallowing in self pity on Steve’s bed, in a big hoodie and fluffy socks. Full ensemble.

And..

He’s bored.

It’s four in the afternoon. His boyfriend doesn’t clock off for another hour; he’s got time to kill. Billy decides.

Rummaging under the bed he fishes out a tattered cardboard box. A very important box.

Steve knows of its existence. It’s been mentioned here and there but never really seen. When Billy started his slow osmosis into Steve’s life it was one of the last things to join.

Seeing it under the frame always settles something inside of him. He knows that Steve will always accept every mismatched jigsaw part of Billy.

He just hasn't had the chance to go full glam of its content yet…

Hoisting it a top the covers he pry’s the lid off just to admire and reminisce. It’s just barely overspilling with memories. Bottles, jewellery, makeup, nail polish, hair ties and more.

Most originate from his mama’s vanity, before it was smashed in a fit of fatherly rage. The deep rouge and floral patterns are a clear indicator of what’s her’s, he tends to leave those alone. 

Some other things are just his though. A small collection of bubblegum glosses and baby blue scrunchies he’s swiped from the purses of hookups, girls at school and random belongings left on the beach. 

One eyeshadow palette is a premium part of his stash, stolen from those fancy stores on the high-streets of Cali. He can’t help but puff up in pride, it took three days in planning and a group effort with his old friends to snatch. Well worth it though, from the two times he’s tried it Billy can’t help but grin at the glitter gradient on his eyelids.

All fragments of something he can’t yet pin down.

He sits in front of a mirror leaned up behind the door, starts the application. Billy never had the luxury to do a full face start to finish; a creak of the floorboards or a closing door had him scrambling for the wipes in his father’s house.

But he’s not there anymore, hasn’t been for months. Neil’s skipped town leaving everything behind and Billy’s ready to move on.

He picks up a powder.

                               ~

He doesn’t hear the front door shut or soft patter of footsteps on carpet, too focused on the straight angle of his liner.  

Only when the door nearly maims the back of his head does he realise Steve is home.

“Billy?!”

He smiles at Steve, giving him time to notice the pigments and sparkles.

“Y–you’re face..”

“You like what you see, pretty boy?” Licks his lips lasciviously. 

His boyfriend kneels down, runs a thumb over one cheekbone.  

“You look beautiful.”

Now it’s Billy's turn to fumble. “Shut up you..” 

He turns away to pick up a black tub and resume his routine. Definitely not to hide any blood rushing to his face

                                ~

Very rarely does Steve see Billy do this, and it’s always a treasure to behold. The sudden urge to hug the boy and never let go is hard to resist. 

He gently presses his lips to Billy's ears weary of smudging anything, receives a light swat to the face and a grumble about ‘pestering pretty boys’ 

Steve tries pulling Billy up and after a bit of a tug of war he finally complies. They're both giggling so it's okay. Steve wraps both arms around him and tries swaying to the left and right, but Billy’s not moving

He gives the other a questioning look, Billy laughs lifting a lip stick still clutched in his hand.

“I’m gonna get this all over you”

Steve can’t take it anymore, needs Billy right now right here. He tackles the blonde onto the bed watching the product go sailing through the air.

Oh well, he’s got more important things to be doing.

Like kissing Billy frantically, arms crawling under his hoodie. Why do clothes need to exist at this very moment?

The sun is setting, the room warm and light, filled with breathless giggles. He has to dodge a misplaced elbow but promptly resumes a one man mission of transferring as much lip tint from his boyfriend’s lips to his.

Billy wriggles, but he's boxed in from either side. His last attempt a desperate howl.

“Steve, leave me alone!! ”

This was a fun one, was having a sick day when writing this. What better way than to spend it in an oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks? Hope you guys enjoyed <3

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Boys of Summer - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Silco and Vander on those lazy summer days...

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

Silco and Vander were aware they were closely watched by the Wardens. By night, they might have ruled the Lanes. By day, they kept their heads down. Sometimes, to throw off suspicion, they'd switch up their routines. Vander would lock up the Drop; Silco would put away the dockets.

They'd do as other young men did in the Undercity: stir up trouble.

Some nights, they went down to the basement-level boxing gyms. There, they'd employ their old boyhood formula. Silco would play master of ceremonies with a showman's flair, reeling in the punters. Vander's sheer size would take care of the rest. In the ring, he'd bash away at a string of unlucky opponents until the bell rang. Grinning, he'd lay his substantial weight on the middle ring rope while Silco collected satchels of coins. Afterward, they'd split them fifty-fifty—Vander into the Drop's coffers, Silco into the miner's emergency fund.

Other nights, they'd hit up the gambling dens. Here, Silco was in his element. He was a natural cardsharp; his face gave nothing away. Vander liked to say that, even if the Kindred came knocking on Silco's door, he'd greet them with a look of perfect blankness. His favorite ploy was the whipsaw, where he and Vander squeezed a player between them, raising and re-raising bets until the third party had no choice but to fold. Afterward, they'd pocket the spoils—though, inevitably, Vander spent his on day-to-day expenses, while Silco stashed his own away for rainy days.

Summers were the dog days. Business slowed to a slog; the heat lay thick as a steam between the walls. Silco and Vander would retreat to the actual steam baths. Their go-to was Baby's Bathwater: cheap, sturdily built, full of glittering mineral pools and subterranean streams. They'd spend the hours before dusk in the tubs, Silco with a tattered paperback novel, Vander with a well-chewed cigarillo. They were always happiest in the swelter, breathing in thick soupy air and sipping on cherry sodas between idle chitchat.

Other times, they'd light out to the badlands and retrace their footsteps to the oxbow where they'd taken dips as children. Stripping down, they'd leap into the waters with raucous shouts. Afterward, Vander would laze in the shade, arms outspread, luxuriating in the unnatural stillness. Silco would swim alongside the peculiar eellike fish stirred awake from winter sleep, generating effortless momentum with the barest motion of his arms and legs.

Later, tipsy on cavernfruit liquor, Vander would teach Silco dirty tricks from his boxing repertoire. The Jack-in-the-box, where you let yourself take a blow, fell backwards, then sprang back up, using the momentum to slam your fist against your opponent's chin. Or the Pipe-Punch, where you offered your victim a toke with the right hand, and slammed your left into their jaw, shattering the bone with a single blow.

Most of the time, Silco could take a stiff belt without folding. He was naturally spry from years of roof-runs. But strength was not his forte. He seldom lasted more than two rounds; no threat to his behemoth contender.

Pugilism made no difference in an Enforcer attack. Boxing gloves were no match for bullets.

[azikarue]

Life in Color : Chapter 26 : Pirate

King, Queen | FFN Rating: K+ | FFN Link ❖ “It’s a shame you have a moral compass now; we could be making a killing off of these parts.”

King rolled his eyes at his sister’s rueful remark. He shot a look her way, but she wasn’t paying attention, too busy running her fingers along a tray of attack rings like they were precious jewels. King recognized them at once as her personal collection of favorites from their parts-hunting days, all carefully packed in a custom case. They were one of the last things they’d placed in the storage unit before closing it up. King hadn’t thought he’d see them again so soon.

Though, he hadn’t thought a company like BEGA would come along and lock away all beyblading parts and components behind a membership, either.

“Pack a box and come on,” he ordered, already feeling agitated from the cramped space and his own intentions hanging over his head.

Ever since their stint with Dr. K and their loss against the Bladebreakers, King and Queen had done their best to give up their old ways and battle fairly. King, especially, found himself exhausted by all the dishonesty and the tangled web of lies and half-truths they’d been fed to further Dr. K’s agenda.

In retrospect, he realized that he’d lost sight of the reason he began beyblading in the first place when he started focusing on the parts he had, instead of how far he could push himself in battle. He knew it came from the days when he and Queen used to gamble their own parts in an effort to build the beyblades of their dreams.

Back then, that was the only access they had to top of the line parts. By the time they could buy them on their own, they’d gotten too greedy and preferred to steal what they wanted. It took battling Tyson to make him realize that the parts weren’t what made them good – it was all the battles they fought as they built their collection and the opponents who forced them to level up.

With that realization, the whole BEGA takeover immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

They were putting too much weight on the pro title, handing kids membership cards and telling them that was all they needed when, in reality, it took years of hard work and discipline to reach the top. Refusing to sell parts to anyone without a BEGA ID made things even worse because it made buying parts feel like a luxury. Kids were waving their BEGA cards around and stripping entire shelves of blading gear because they could, but most of them hadn’t fully mastered their beginner blades yet.

Not only that, but it happened too fast. King had learned the hard way what happened when you blindly trusted a loser with an ego making big promises. The ‘moral compass’ Queen made fun of hated seeing a bunch of kids taken advantage of.

And if Tyson wasn’t backing BEGA…

Well, King didn’t consider it a good sign.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Queen sighed. She had a cardboard box in her arms and a bored expression on her face. King knew she thought he was blowing the BEGA thing out of proportion, but at least she agreed to help. Even if part of the reason she did was because she’d get a suped up blade out of the deal; her own case of parts was on top of the box she was carrying.

King sifted through a few more boxes until he was able to put one together that had a decent variety of parts. He closed it up, wincing at the grating sound of cardboard scraping, and hoisted it onto his shoulder. With a nod of his head, Queen followed him out of their storage unit. Her foot only tapped a little bit waiting for him to lock it up.

Back out on the streets, they turned in unison and headed towards the nearest subway station. When they’d gotten the storage unit, King purposefully chose one a handful of stops away from their apartment. He didn’t want it to be inconvenient, but it felt less tempting to pore through their stash of amassed parts if they weren’t right down the street. And, with the reputation they’d garnered for themselves, it was safer to keep most of their parts away from home.

Over the past year of walking the straight and narrow, they hadn’t made a single trip out to the unit, though they paid for it monthly. Instead, they honed their skills with the beyblades they had, replacing parts as needed with the handful they kept laying around.

Carrying the boxes through the city, now, felt illicit.

Queen didn’t seem bothered. When they took their seats on the train, she plucked a lethal-looking attack ring from her collection and twirled it around in her fingers.

“Stop frowning, King,” she said without taking her eyes off the attack ring. “We’re not doing anything illegal and BEGA isn’t combing the streets of Tokyo for unaccounted-for parts.”

King’s frown, ever-present these days, deepened as the doors hissed shut. “Technically, we’re in possession of stolen property,” he said, keeping his voice low even though the only other people in their car had headphones on. “In case you forgot how we have so many parts in the first place.”

Queen just laughed and said, “If you want to get technical about it, they’re winnings. We didn’t steal anything.”

“Tell that to all the kids who ever begged us to let them keep their beyblades,” he shot back, angry at her flippancy. To Queen this might be an amusing jaunt into their past habits, but King felt like they were taking steps backward on a slippery slope. “If all you’re looking to do is get your kicks on a power trip and make other bladers miserable again, then I can do this without you.”

Anger flashed in Queen’s eyes.

King balled his hands into fists on top of the box in his lap and leveled her with a fixed stare.

“I mean it,” he said. “If you want to face off against somebody, make it the cocky bladers who hold their precious BEGA memberships over other people’s heads. I don’t even care if you ask them to put their parts on the line once our stores run low. But these—,” he paused to rap on the top of the box and make sure he had Queen’s attention, “—are for anybody who needs parts but doesn’t have access to them.

“The sport of beyblading isn’t something some company can buy and sell as it pleases. If BEGA wants to limit parts sales to its members, I’ll sell them to everyone else myself at a fraction of the cost.”

Queen sat in stunned silence for a minute. “A fraction?” she asked and raised both of her eyebrows.

“We got them for free,” King reminded her with a halfhearted glare. If there weren’t going to be certain risks and costs involved, he wouldn’t charge at all.

His sister laughed and sat back in her seat.

“You had me at ‘put their parts on the line’,” she said, tossing the attack ring in the air and catching it in her fist. “There are plenty of gullible losers out there buying parts because they have a magic card that lets them. I’d love to take them down a peg.”

King sighed. At least she had spirit. Maybe her own moral compass would come with time. In the meanwhile, there were just as many struggling beybladers out there as there were gullible losers, and he would do whatever he could to get them the parts that they needed.

[pontevoix]

they  travel  light.  it’s  necessary.  of  course  there  are  times  when  edward  teeters  into  some  thing  like  a  little  more  obnoxious,  a  little  more  petulant  (he  gets  that  way  sometimes  --  when  something  sticky  tacks  to  the  crevices  of  his  thought  mind).  then,  edward  gets  a  little  crass  &  asks  to  stash  something  in  alphonse's  armor  which

alphonse  only  sometimes  concedes  to  do.  it  feels  a  little  unsettling  to  be  hollow,  not  hollow.

it's  a  luxury  when  edward  is  stationed  at  a  hotel  with  good  windows,  big  windows.  when  there  is  a  window  -  it's  easier  for  alphonse  to  watch  motion.  from  those  returning  from  graveyard  shifts.

they’re  usually  somewhere  close  to  the  city  center,  but  right  now  they’re  settled  closer  to  the  river.  they  surrender  themselves  to  a  stakeout,  a  watchdog  night  through  their  hotel  window.

the  riverside  is  quieter  than  the  city,  but  it’s  nice.  even  so,  there's  always  something  happening.  not  a  lot.  there  is  something.

alphonse  spots  a  bird  that  shouldn't  be  awake  dipping  into  water,  a  churn  of  water  that  snacks  snags  on  pollution,  a  boat  docking.

a  boat  docking.  it  may  be  the  end  of  their  stakeout.  they’re  waiting  for  someone  who  was  supposed  to  arrive  by  boat,  someone  who  was  the  last  reported  person  to  have  been  in  possession  of  an  antique  jewelry  box  that  had  been  pawned,  pawned,  &  then  pawned  again.  rumor  has  it  that  there’s  a  false  bottom  to  the  box.

they’ve  been  tasked  to  find  out.

&  they  don’t  have  to  be  subtle,  exactly.  they  can’t  be.  alphonse  is  seven  feet  tall  &  sometimes  rattles  when  he  talks.

so  they  make  things  straightforward  —  they  abandon  their  hotel  room  &  make  their  way  to  the  docks.  edward  keeps  his  hands  stuffed  into  his  pockets,  &  alphonse  greets  their  target  with  too  much  amicability,  too  much  familiarity:

‘  hope  the  waters  were  smooth!  ‘

start | @lastblues

[bladedalchemistreplica]

Mischief time... *throws chocolate to the masses

[[reminder for mun~~~Good idea

Alfor watched the box fall to the ground and various other but smaller packages. His eyes wide and his mouth in a tight lipped manner as the boxes lay untouched. While he did wish to be the first to move to grab one- the larger blade leader reached down first and picked it up.

The massive hand holding the case allowed the marmoran leader to inspect it from a safe distance before he brought it up for a wary sniff. Though as he did so another figure went to take a bag. One with familiar long blonde hair.

“Is this edible?” Kolivan may not have had much luxury with sweets in his time, though it was not a foreign scent to him. Just something he had not had the pleasure of indulging in.

Alfor by now had picked a small bag up and opened it. Asking questions later, the small cartoony and simplified heart shaped sweet made way into his mouth, to the dismay and worry of Thace standing near.

“Shouldn’t have you…tested it first…?” Thace asked warily as he watched his mate eat the sweet. Before watching another one disappear from the bag and into his mate’s mouth. “Al—“

“You may not be able to have it but it is safe to consume. Just some sweets.” Alfor smiled before hearing the sounds of bickering and fighting. Much of the formed group turned to now observe the chaos the bag causing.

“Should we interfere?” Thace questioned before watching Romelle throw a punch into Matt’s side. That got him the answer to not interfere with them.

He rather not end up like that. No point in losing his side again.

“Hmm…so this can cause that?” Kolivan observed Romelle begin protecting the bag of supposed sweets. Somewhat impressed but concerned to the side effects of the sweets.

“If it would, I doubt it. Some just have a strong sweet tooth. Though I don’t recommend you trying it, if anything has changed, the reaction to the candy may not be in your favor.” He looked up at Kolivan before reaching for the box in his hand. “It will make you severely ill though not much internal damage…it should not…” he thought it hasn’t caused any internal or permanent damage.

May be wise to not test such a thing.

Kolivan handed the man the box. “Ah…Then go— hmm…go crazy.” Kolivan had heard one of the rebels say that, and it seemed like the appreciate phrase for the Altean. History of him did seem to have some unusual aspects for him.

“I’ll behave.” Alfor took the box with two hands and began to inspect it, before carefully opening the front. Revealing an oversized heart shaped shell. Though as he did so another tag caught his eye, forcing them wide and a small excited squeak escaped his mouth.

Behind him Thace stared at his leader; that wasn’t something one would expect or attempt to do.

In the distance from the group was Ozar, Olia, Keith, and Acxa all four of them watching the feline named Kovw jumping around and batting a lone piece of chocolate. Nipping at some of them if they tried to take it.

“He might be try’n to tell us someth’in.” Olia suggested.

“That would be—?” Ozar leaned down and brought his hand back as Kova hissed at him. He never did mind some scratches and bruises, but that Kova was deadly.

Keith shrugged before nodding at the candy. “On earth cats and dogs can get sick or die if they eat that kind of stuff, it depends on how much and time it can take to help them. I think they pump their stomach…” he never had a dog, but he knew of someone who’s dog got sick because of that.

“Really?” Acxa raised a brow. “Then shouldn’t we remove Kova from that?” Kova was once a companion of Natri, but they never came across such often and if they did Ezor always stashed it away or swallowed it down in ticks.

“I mean…Kova acts like his own person, I think he’s trying to protect us from it.” The space cat did seem to have a mind of his own. It was interesting to say the least. He probably would steal the heart of everyone on earth if the gales wanted to use him against them.

That actually got him to smirk a bit.

[[yayyyy—- now time to draw

[beardedmrbean]

A US senator charged in a bribery case has said his stashing of nearly half a million dollars cash at home stemmed from his Cuban parents' fear that their money might be seized by authorities.

Robert Menendez of New Jersey predicted he would be exonerated as he vowed to run for re-election next year.

Prosecutors say he and his wife accepted money, gold bars and a luxury car in exchange for political favours.

The senator has so far rejected calls from fellow Democrats to resign.

"When all the facts are presented, not only will I be exonerated, but I still will be New Jersey's senior senator," a defiant Mr Menendez told a news conference on Monday.

It was his first public appearance since he was indicted on Friday.

Speaking in Union City, New Jersey, he added: "Those who rushed to judgment, you have done so based on a limited set of facts framed by the prosecution to be as salacious as possible."

What's in the Senator Robert Menendez indictment?

Federal agents who searched his New Jersey home last year found more than $480,000 in cash (£393,000) stuffed into envelopes and hidden in jackets, closets and a safe, along with 13 bars of gold bullion. Another $70,000 was discovered inside his wife's safety deposit box at a bank.

According to the indictment, Mr Menendez had searched online for "how much is one kilo of gold worth".

But in Monday's news conference he said: "I have withdrawn thousands of dollars in cash from my personal savings account, which I have kept for emergencies and because of the history of my family facing confiscation in Cuba.

"Now this may seem old-fashioned, but these were monies drawn from my personal savings account based on the income that I have lawfully derived over those 30 years."

Mr Menendez, the son of Cuban immigrants, suggested last week that the indictment - and calls for his resignation - came from those "rushing to judge a Latino and push him out of his seat".

The 39-page federal indictment accuses Mr Menendez and his wife, Nadine Menendez, of accepting bribes in exchange for the senator's political influence at home and abroad on behalf of both the government of Egypt and business associates in New Jersey.

Investigators also said they found a luxury Mercedes-Benz paid for by a businessman parked in the Menendezes' garage.

The charge-sheet said that after the couple received the car, Mrs Menendez texted her husband to say: "Congratulations mon amour de la vie, we are the proud owners of a 2019 Mercedes."

In his remarks on Monday, Mr Menendez addressed his senatorial work related to Egypt, saying his record was clear in holding Cairo accountable on human rights.

This is not the first time that Mr Menendez - who has served in Congress since 2006 - has faced bribery charges.

In 2015 he was indicted in New Jersey on charges he had accepted bribes from a Florida eye doctor.

That case ended in a mistrial after jurors were unable to reach a unanimous verdict.

[solarstcrms]

HAPPY BELATED JAE’S HOLIDAY GIFTS ROUNDUP !!

@efflorcscences @hvpotheses @nightfallens @kaloxia @ncxicus @foryourdiary @svrtorial @quietepics @swanstains ;*

There’s no good reason to give this a whole post beside how cute I thought the graphic was lol but anyway the real point is that Jae is so serious about gifts. He loves having the holidays as an excuse he can’t be stopped.

GINNY — requested: n/a — It’s been a long time since Jae stopped asking Ginny what she wants; her answers always suck. This year, he stole her airpods and wrapped them in a giant box, then restocked her snack stash with all her favorites when she wasn’t looking.

JAN: — requested: a Dior jacket he likes — By far one of the most straightforward answers, but it did take a lot of Dealing With Jan first before he could actually focus. It was easy enough to acquire, but a single jacket seemed so lonely without other pieces to go with it, so Jae made Jan pick out a matching outfit.

CYNTHIA: — requested: “ the ugliest thing you can find ” — There is some truly heinous Moschino out there he could have gotten her, but even Jae won’t allow another burger skirt to walk around. He compromised by getting this 2018 Stella McCartney and he’s insisting she wear it out. He tossed in a YSL Libre because it can’t all be bad.

NARUMI: — requested: flowers — Never much of a flowers guy since there’s a few he’s allergic to, Jae tried to keep it classic. He ordered a giant, colorful bouquet, only sneezed once, and went searching for the prettiest crystal vase he could find. Then he ordered some Belgian chocolate for the giggles, and to round things out.

MINJEONG: — requested: a set of rings she’s been eyeing — So Minjeong did also jokingly imply she’d ask for a car instead if she could only drive and Jae wanted to give her shit for it but he was like so real it’s not in our culture to drive (🌈 not sk) but anyway. He did get her those rings, but he also got her a personal driver.

ARIEL: — requested: sent a list of colors, textures, flavors etc. she likes — Jae knows very little about Hanukkah, but he was very ready to assemble eight gifts. Doled out in singularly wrapped gifts for each day, the first three (shoes, blouse, pants) made a full matching outfit, while the next two (dress, jewelry) could be paired with the shoes to make another. The next day held some Baccarat Rouge 540, the day after that a spa pass. The last day, in an effort to stay festive, finally, he gave her a handful of chocolate coins, for gelt.

NATE: — requested: sent a gdoc link of spam instead of answering — Nate is impossible to shop for, so it was easier to just tease him instead. So Jae got him some shoe inserts to help with his height problem, and dinner for two at his favorite restaurant, just so Nate doesn’t try to kill him in his sleep.

GIGI: — requested: a birkin — Truly an angel on earth, she didn’t give him any trouble answering and was clear about exactly what she wanted. Jae has some kind of complex where he can’t just hand over a single gift, though, so he filled her bag with little treats before he was finally ready to give it to her.

KLAUS: — requested: n/a — Like Ginny, they were barely consulted for their gift. Jae didn’t even bother wrapping his up, he just left a bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling wine & a year-long pass to a luxury bathhouse

[wonderlandleighleigh]

a photo prompt if you feel like it

(I love this but you will never convince me that Midge Maisel would go within 5 feet of a furry friend. She is NOT a pet person)

Edward R Meowrow is a great cat.

At a little under one, he has a nice, cozy home with his humans, where he enjoys belly rubs and treats. Rare are the days when he knocks valuables off of shelves, and he's never went potty outside of his little box, stashed in a comfortable little closet, as if it is his own personal bathroom.

His humans are busy humans, but never too busy for snuggles, and at night, he sleeps in a big bed, meant for dogs, stretched out like the big, adorable dumb-dumb he is.

And Damian Wayne could not love him more.

Every time he travels to DC to visit his brother, his main objective is to spend some quality time with Ed.

It's nice to stay with Jason and Maggie for a weekend. To be able to stay in and read and not have to worry about school or patrol. He sleeps in (until 8 in the morning! A luxury, truly!), watches films, and reads from Jason's insane book collection.

And Ed is with him every step of the way.

The door opens and closes on Friday evening and Maggie steps in, grinning. "Hey!"

"Hello," Damian greets her, looking up from the book and the cat on his chest.

Maggie chuckles and pasts both Ed and Damian on their heads. "Jason is working late. What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know," Damian admits, sitting up and allowing Ed to adjust down onto the couch. "Whatever is fine, I suppose."

"Thai?" she offers. "There's a place around the corner that does killer tofu pad Thai."

"Excellent," Damian agrees.

Maggie grins. "Great." She pulls down some cat food. "Mr. Meowrow, it's dinner time for you, buddy!"

The cat hops off the couch and dashes over.

Damian smirks. Not letting on that he'd already given Ed a handful of treats less than an hour ago.